


누군가 필요해 (i need somebody)

by wooschi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Graphic, Hospitals, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Schizoaffective Disorder, Self Harm, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:19:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooschi/pseuds/wooschi
Summary: He doesn’t know what to do. He’s typing on his keyboard but it feels odd - he can’t seem to feel the pressure of his fingers pressing the keys. Come to think of it, he couldn’t really feel much lately. It was annoying. Maybe he should check Naver to see if that was normal.The story of how Lee Jihoon broke and was left to repair himself.





	누군가 필요해 (i need somebody)

**Author's Note:**

> < WARNING: STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF HARM AND SUICIDAL TENDENCIES >
> 
> Hello. I wrote this in the span of a day because I felt so bad. Believe it or not, some parts of this story are based on events I went through. I’m okay, though. Don’t worry.
> 
> This story was supposed to end a long time ago, I don’t think it was supposed to go over 6K words but I just couldn’t stop writing? There’s two smut scenes though hehe. But it kind of went downhill. You can see in my writing where I was just trying to find ways to continue the story by adding irrelevant scenes?
> 
> I tried to make a realistic story about depression and all that good stuff. I didn’t really like reading stories about how the character got better because they fell in love and their partner helped them heal all by themselves with their love and all that. That’s not how it works. Well, not always. I hope I did it justice.
> 
> Anyways..

He doesn’t know how it started.

It just seemed so sudden that his mood dropped so low, but at the same time this feeling wasn’t new. It’s like he’s kept in this dark emotion for so long that he’s coming closer to fully exploding soon, which terrifies him. He wishes it wasn’t like this.

Jihoon puts on his headphones just then. It’s almost 4am and he’s not yet completed the new song that needs to be done in a week. It’s overwhelming. The pictures and numbers on the screen don’t seem to make sense. The voices in the recording seem fuzzed. Jihoon is tired.

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s typing on his keyboard but it feels odd - he can’t seem to feel the pressure of his fingers pressing the keys. Come to think of it, he couldn’t really feel much lately. It was annoying. Maybe he should check Naver to see if that was normal.

Another hour passes by in a literal blink of an eye, Jihoon is already walking back to the dorm with his laptop under his arm. There are early risers already on the streets, that or night owls finally going home. Jihoon’s vision is blurred the entire time which he validates to blame on being lethargic.

Jihoon arrives to the dorms a while later, unlocking the door and pushing it open. The dorm is quiet. Obviously. The members have been sleeping for probably hours now. Jihoon relocks the door and heads straight to his shared room with Mingyu.

Mingyu is sleeping. Jihoon puts his laptop on the desk and doesn’t bother to change as he climbs straight onto his top bunk and falls face first onto the pillows, falling straight to sleep.

 

Jihoon wakes up feeling even more tired. Like he wasn’t supposed to wake up at all. It’s discouraging as Jihoon struggles to find comfort in his bed once again but fails to. Mingyu is up and gone. The dorm is quiet, Jihoon wonders where everyone has gone for a brief second before discarding the thought.

They could be anywhere.

Jihoon gives in. He’s climbing down his bunk bed, head hazed as he walks to the kitchen. He’s not hungry but thirsty. He grabs a glass cup and fills it with water from the tap. He takes a few tentative sips as his glazed eyes become spaced out.

Next thing, the cup is shattered on the floor.

Jihoon groans. Seems like his lack of senses made him drop the cup. Jihoon bends down to pick up the pieces. While doing so, he cuts his finger.

He groans again. Blood bubbles from the cut, spilling down his finger. The colour mesmerizes Jihoon, the deep red fading into a pale red as the streak continues down his forearm. It’s a bit of an excessive cut, but Jihoon didn’t feel it at all, which probably made him cut deeper in the first place since he didn’t feel it.

It bamboozles Jihoon.

Picking up a shard of glass, Jihoon touches the sharpest tip, watching the tip of his finger indent from the sharp press. He didn’t even feel that.

Experimenting, Jihoon scratches himself with his fingernail. Once again, he doesn’t feel it. He wonders briefly if he’s on drugs. Maybe the water was slipped with something.

Jihoon lifts his injured hand up, examining the pale skin of his forearm. His cut dripped onto the floor and Jihoon finds paper towel in the bottom cupboards, wiping up the blood trickling down his finger.

For science, Jihoon cuts his wrist with a piece of glass.

He feels a faint pain. So faint he almost misses it. It’s dissatisfying.

The cut bubbles and spills like the one on his finger. Jihoon knows what self harm is. But this wasn’t it. He was experimenting. And he failed.

Jihoon uses the paper towel to wipe up the blood, holding it there for a few seconds to stop the bleeding. Then he proceeds to clean up the glass, tossing the shards in the bin as he goes back to his room.

His wrist is throbbing, which is something he could feel under his skin instead of on the outside. It confuses him more.

Jihoon decides to work on the song in the comfort of his own bed.

 

Jihoon misses practice. It was an accident. He fell asleep working on the new song. He wakes up pretty sad and numb like usual. He’s been so tired lately that he’s practically stealing Jeonghan’s sloth title.

He wakes up at 7, which practice started at 3. A lot of time has passed, Jihoon wonders if it was even worth it to go. Ah, he’ll just face Seungcheol’s wrath later.

The cut on his arm catches his attention. It’s a risen cut now, which is way too obvious to have on display, but he runs his fingers over the skin, actually feeling the tingling sensation of touching open and tender skin. It’s a bit addicting, the tingly feeling.

Jihoon climbs down his bunk bed, going to the bathroom he shared with Mingyu the was connected to their room (their new dorms were pretty cool!). He rummages through the cabinets, finding what he was looking for in the drawer of the counter near the sink.

Mingyu’s shaving razors. He dismantles the object, discarding the plastic and keeping the sharp razors. They’re super thin and sharp, they shine under the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. Jihoon holds it up to his wrist just under his first cut.

He pushes the sharp tip into his skin, watching it disappear under his flesh, and then he drags it along. The tingling sensation appears when he cuts with the razor instead of the glass shard.

“Oh.” Jihoon says. That’s the exact feeling he was hoping for.

Blood immediately pours out of the cut, dripping slowly into the white sink.

It’s addicting - the feeling.

Jihoon drags another cut below that one. He watched the blood pool in the sink, sliding down his pale arm.

Jihoon can actually feel, even if it was in the most toxic way.

Suddenly the door is slamming closed, voices echoing in the hall. Jihoon accidentally drops the razor on the floor, grabbing a hand towel and wiping up the blood as he turns the tap on. He rinses his bloodied wrist under the drain, mesmerized by the pink water.

Luckily there’s a sweater hanging behind the bathroom door. Jihoon is pretty sure it’s Mingyu’s but the younger boy wouldn’t mind as Jihoon slips it on to hide his three new cuts.

Just then, Mingyu appears as Jihoon leaves the bathroom.

“Seungcheol hyung wants to talk to you.” Mingyu says after a brief once over of Jihoon.

Jihoon’s stomach suddenly twists.

Contrary to belief, Seungcheol is actually intimidating and Jihoon isn’t soulless - he gets intimidated also. And a disappointed or upset Seungcheol was not something Jihoon enjoyed.

Jihoon avoided Mingyu’s eyes but also the eyes of the other members as he trailed throughout the dorm to look for their leader. Luckily, Jihoon found him alone in the kitchen.

“Jihoon, where were you today?” Seungcheol asks sullenly. Jihoon fidgets. He doesn’t feel good in general and Seungcheol is just making it worse. “I was sleeping.” Jihoon responds meekly.

Seungcheol sighs and shakes his head.

“We have our comeback in three weeks, Jihoon. You’ve yet to even learn the choreography.” Seungcheol notes.

“I know, but I’m still working on the song.” Jihoon says, which is true.

“The song? You told PD that you had it finished, Jihoon, you’re never this late in making songs.”

Jihoon wants to say that making songs is not easy even when he doesn’t feel bad. He wants to tell Seungcheol to shut up and try to fully produce a song himself. He wants to cry and tell Seungcheol to leave him alone, that he’s trying his best. But he doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“If you miss tomorrow’s practice, I’m going to have to inform PD that you’re slacking. We know you’re a dancer but this choreography is going to take more than one practice to master, Jihoon. You’re wasting all our time if you’re lacking and holding us back.” Seungcheol bites. Jihoon flinches.

Yikes. Seungcheol was never this strict to Jihoon. They were friends.

Jihoon must be really bad. The thought makes his gut twist, his stomach clench, and his mind fuzzy. His hands are shaking in the pocket of the sweater. He can’t stop staring at the floor.

After a few moments of silence between him and Seungcheol, Jihoon looks up and sees nothing but disappointment.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll w-work on it. I-I...” Jihoon stutters before abruptly turning around and leaving a stunned Seungcheol behind.

Jihoon hates being scolded. He knows it helps him learn but he’s always been pretty sensitive, especially these days.

He’s out of breath as he leans against the walk next to his room. His hands are still shaking and he’s pretty sure he’s crying but he can’t tell.

Jihoon hates himself for being so weak.

He wipes at his eyes, not wanting to face Mingyu like this. He adjusts the sweater, using the large size to advantage to drown out his entire self. He finally walks into his bedroom.

Mingyu is sitting at his desk. Jihoon avoids his eyes. He kind of thinks he might cry more if he was to look anybody in the eyes at the moment.

“How’d it go?” Mingyu asks. Jihoon is hesitant to respond. He wonders if he even should. He’s scared his voice will crack because of the lump formed there.

Instead Jihoon climbs onto his bunk. He wraps himself around his blanket and falls into bed. Even though it’s still early and he just woke up, he’s so tired.

Jihoon is tired both mentally and physically. He falls back to sleep after letting a few tears escape.

 

Jihoon resorted to wearing wrist bands. The fluffy kinds. The basketball wrist bands. Just to hide his cuts but also to catch any blood. The inside of the band is bloodied dry and Jihoon is sure that’s unhygienic or something but he can’t be bothered to wash it when it’ll just get dirty again.

There’s quite a few cuts on his arm. He’s put them there whenever he had a bad moment, a bad thought, or simply wanted to feel again. He keeps Mingyu’s razor in a small case in his pocket at all times now.

He also kind of stole Mingyu’s sweater. There was already dried up blood on the inside of the sleeve, Jihoon would feel bad returning it that way.

Jihoon’s habit had started a toll on him. He overthinks everything, more than he used to. He’s hypersensitive of anything. He twists events into bad ones so he has a reason to cut. It’s gruesome, it’s pathetic and Jihoon doesn’t deserve pity.

He’s doing it to himself. He knows that.

It’s been a few days since he started cutting. The days have been just getting longer and longer, harder and harder. The song is still incomplete, he feels that if he were to hand it in now and the fans won’t like it because of the incompleteness of it that it would be entirely his fault (because it will be!).

He spends more time in his studio now. He doesn’t trust himself to work at home. He also doesn’t like the way Mingyu’s eyes linger on him after he cuts himself in the bathroom. It’s better to do it in the privacy of his own studio.

Jihoon attends practices, he knows he’s lacking despite Hansol and Seungkwan’s opinions that he’s doing well. Seungcheol was right about needing more practice time, Jihoon is wearing thin as the hours go by.

It gets so bad that once practice ends, Soonyoung holds Jihoon back. The youngers look upset, Seungcheol looks sullen, and Mingyu looks torn.

Jihoon is sitting on the ground, exhausted.

Soonyoung is talking to him, but for some reason Jihoon can’t hear him. He tries to, he really does. He can hear Soonyoung’s voice but none of the words are making sense.

“Jihoon!”

Jihoon flinches at hearing Soonyoung’s booming voice.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Soonyoung asks. He sounds a bit angry, Jihoon notes. It scares him. Angry Soonyoung is scary.

“N-no, but I couldn’t hea-“

“What is wrong with you, Jihoon? Why are you acting like this? First you’re lying to not only PD about finishing the song, but also us, then you’re missing practice and right now you’re facing the consequences of lacking entirely! Do you not know what would happen if this comeback fails, it’ll be all your fault?”

When Soonyoung is angry, he tends to say things. Most of them are out of spite, but Jihoon believes these words to be true. And it hurts to have the truth be hurled at him so violently.

“This is so out of character for you, Jihoon. If you’re going through some phase, just knock it off because you’re hurting our group,” Soonyoung hisses. “God... you’re so useless sometimes.”

Maybe Jihoon wasn’t supposed to hear the last part because Soonyoung was already walking away. But he’s heard it. And that hurt. A lot.

Jihoon buries his head in his knees, hopelessness drifting over him, the same dark hole within becoming bigger. He’s upset. His hands are shaking and his breathing irregular.

The door of the practice room closes, signalling that Jihoon was alone.

He digs into the pocket of his sweats, pulling out the plastic container. He removes his wristband, cringing at the sight of many cuts in such a short time. Most of them are still red, some are faded pink, and others are just dried up from earlier today.

Jihoon presses the razor into his skin, not caring if he went over some old cuts. There was only much room under the wristband, Jihoon couldn’t risk going higher up his arm.

He drags the razor and easily slices open his skin.

Soonyoung’s words etch themselves onto his mind, he takes everything bad he’s been told in the past few days whether as jokes or not to the heart and suddenly he’s softly crying as he adds another cut to his wrist.

Blood drips onto the floor. It’s pouring from the slits on his wrists. The deep crimson colour addicting. The tingling he feels equally addicting.

Everything hurts. Jihoon feels so alone. He feels like the world is against him. He’s so sad and he hates feeling like this. He hates cutting himself in order to feel something. He hates everything. But most importantly, Jihoon hates himself the most.

His hands are shaking as he eyes his vein. He could probably cut it up, bleed out onto this floor and maybe die or something. His sobs wreck his body. Everything hurts.

Jihoon adds another cut. Watches that one bubble and drip down his arm onto the floor as well. He’s about to add another one when suddenly a hand is pulling his arm away.

Jihoon is in too much shock to even process what’s happening.

The razor is being taken away from his fingers - his body shakes as another wave of sobs wrack him -, a towel is being pressed up against his wrist, the gentle hands holding him delicately, Jihoon can’t breathe.

He can’t see or hear anything. His vision is blurred. There’s static in his eardrums, his body won’t stop shaking. Jihoon wishes he was anywhere else but here.

A hand forces Jihoon to look up, he could see the blurry silhouette of a person, the person wiping away the tears that pour down his cheeks like the blood did to his wrist. 

Jihoon blinks, his vision clearing slightly to catch sight of the person.

Mingyu.

Jihoon shakes more as he sees Mingyu speaking but he can’t hear it. His breathing becomes irregular but not drastically as he watches Mingyu clean him up.

Jihoon sobs.

He sobs for quite a while.

Nothing makes sense.

Why can’t Jihoon feel anything? Why couldn’t he hear anything? Why was the black hole he fell in so consuming? Would he ever feel normal again?

Jihoon wanted it to end. He was sick of this.

He was tired. The crying exhausted him. Jihoon finds himself closing his eyes after his sobs have somewhat subsided, feeling waves of lethargic wash over him.

But he doesn’t fall asleep.

He hears Mingyu talking again. This time he’s able to hear and understand.

“Let’s go back to the dorms, Jihoon-ah.”

Mingyu’s voice is so calm. So gentle. Jihoon nods.

Mingyu is helping him to stand up, a task Jihoon finds hard.

Jihoon leans onto Mingyu most of the time, the taller boy holding onto him with equal strength. Mingyu helps Jihoon into his sweater to shield him from spring’s cold nights. The walk back to the dorms is even more exhausting, Jihoon stumbles but Mingyu steadies him.

Once they’re back in the dorms, Mingyu takes Jihoon to their room. He closes the door behind them and leaves the light off as he leads Jihoon to his bunk.

Jihoon clings to the bars, it takes a while to climb up because he’s so tired but he makes it.

Crawling into bed, Jihoon feels alone. Much more alone. He feels his heart caving in and he’s sniffling before he knows it.

It’s pathetic. Jihoon knows. But he’s so vulnerable and upset right now. 

Suddenly Mingyu is standing by his bed, peering over the bar. Jihoon wipes his eyes with the blanket as he watches Mingyu.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jihoon knows what he means. Mingyu wants to know why he cuts himself. And Jihoon is ashamed that it is for stupid reasons. He also doesn’t feel like talking. He’s too tired. So he shakes his head no, eyes slipping closed.

He feels Mingyu pet his head, gently caressing the side of his face. Normally Jihoon would push away, bite back with some sort of remark, but the gentle and soft touches are relaxing.

“Mingyu...”

Jihoon says oh so quietly. A whisper, almost.

He opens his eyes. Mingyu retracted his hand.

“... can you...?”

Jihoon doesn’t want to be alone tonight. He knows Mingyu sleeps across the room but even then the loneliness creeps up on him. Luckily, Mingyu understands.

“Of course.”

Mingyu climbs into Jihoon’s bunk. The fit right but just a little bit tight. Mingyu has his back facing the wall. Jihoon is curled up against his chest. Hesitantly, Jihoon feels Mingyu’s arm wrap around him, pulling him closer.

Jihoon feels protected. He feels warm. He nuzzles into the crook of Mingyu’s neck, savouring the warmth radiating off the taller boy’s body.

He sighs softly, feeling contented. He closes his eyes and drifts to sleep.

Not before he feels Mingyu press a kiss to the top of his head.

 

Of course, now that Mingyu knows his dirty little secret, he’d try to prevent Jihoon from harming himself. That meant discarding all of the razors and buying an electronic one where retrieving the razors was nearly impossible.

It meant hiding the extra thumbtacks in the walls. Making sure all the knives were still there.

Being on Jihoon’s tail 24/7.

It was kind of annoying having Mingyu following him mostly all the time. That was the con of this situation. If he wasn’t following Jihoon, he’d be keeping a close eye on the shorter. It made Jihoon anxious.

He was also feeling the withdrawals kicking in now since he hadn’t cut himself in two days. The members didn’t seem to know, showing that Mingyu didn’t tell anyone. Which Jihoon appreciated.

The pro of this situation was Mingyu now sleeping with Jihoon.

That was the only good thing so far. Jihoon appreciated that because he’d feel less lonely, more secure, and less likely having the urge to cut himself. It was also nice because Mingyu was a cuddler as much as Jihoon was. They’d wake up closer than when they went to bed.

Other than that, Jihoon hated Mingyu.

But also appreciated him for genuinely caring.

But he was also annoyed at Mingyu for taking away the only thing that made him feel sane.

But also thankful for him for helping him not to depend on self harm to feel something.

It was a back and forth battle, Jihoon wasn’t sure which side he was for.

Jihoon still felt sad and lost, of course. The dark hole continued to flourish. The days went on regularly, he just had a tail and couldn’t cut himself.

Tonight was the last night to finish the song before PD was coming tomorrow to retrieve it. Jihoon was going to his studio. Without Mingyu.

Mingyu didn’t need to come. Jihoon was hoping he wouldn’t.

“I’m going to my studio for a few hours.” Jihoon had announced.

Mingyu looked unsure. Scared, almost. But Jihoon knew he had no reason to follow.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me if you need anything.” Mingyu said.

And that was that. Jihoon was arriving to his studio.

He’s been working on the song at the dorms since Mingyu didn’t seem to want to let him come back to the studio alone just yet. And he’s gotten quiet a lot done, especially when Mingyu would pop up from behind him, resting his chin on Jihoon’s shoulder and watching the screen.

All that was left was for a few more run throughs and it will be finalized.

So Jihoon got to work right away. He typed on his keyboard, still unable to feel his fingers tap against the keys. It was a numbness he’s gotten used to.

Two hours later, Jihoon held the final product in his hand. He’s burned the disc after listening to it and making minor adjustments. The song was great in his opinion. He couldn’t wait for the members to hear it so they could practice with the final product and not the first copy.

Jihoon put the CD titled “울고 싶지 않아” away. He stretched in his seat, cracking a few joints. For a few seconds he felt normal. Like he wasn’t in a dark pit. Until he sat back and his mind went blank.

Now that the song was done, he had to perfect the choreo. Which was still a learning task. He remembered how Soonyoung scolded him so violently. He’s still never apologized, and Jihoon was still affected by it.

By thinking of being scolded by Soonyoung, Jihoon also thought about being scolded by Seungcheol. They were his close friends. They scolded him so shamelessly mean when he was at a vulnerable state with his mentality.

That had Jihoon thinking about how weak he was. 

Suddenly, a wave of bad thoughts buried Jihoon.

A dark cloud clouded over him and he felt sad, lost and upset all over again. 

Jihoon suddenly craved release. He needed to cut himself. So many things happened in just the past two days, like accidentally knocking Chan’s phone out of his hands. And accidentally shoving Minghao to the point he fell over. But also stepping on Jeonghan’s shoe during dance practice that he got the longest lecture and scold that left him shaking and upset.

So many bad things happened and he couldn’t punish himself.

Jihoon still wore the band, of course he did. But Mingyu washed it, it was nice and new again and has been since since he couldn’t cut himself.

Jihoon wondered if there was anything sharp in his office. Scissors were too much. Searching around his desk, Jihoon pulled up a sharpener. Using the scissors to unscrew the tiny screw, a fresh new razor popped out.

Jihoon dropped the leftover sharpener on the floor, all of his attention going to the tiny razor he held. It was sharp. The tip created a little pinhole of blood on Jihoon’s fingertip.

Jihoon removed the band, observing the bright white of the clean band. His scars were fading. Not entirely, but it was obvious he was inactive for a couple of days.

That was about to change.

Jihoon sliced his wrist, mouth opening at the sting he felt. It was more intense then the tingle he was used to. Perhaps it was because it’s been while.

The blood trickled out of the cut, bobbing down his arm. He sliced into his skin even more, creating three fresh cuts.

That was enough for now. It’s been a while, the stinging was overwhelming. He used tissue to wipe up the blood, tossing them in the bin by his desk. He put the band back around his wrist, feeling his blood be immediately soaked into the fabric (metaphorically).

Jihoon felt bad for tainting Mingyu’s trust. But he also didn’t promise that he’d stop.

Jihoon got back to the dorm a little while later, feeling tired as he went to his room. He heard the shower running, signalling Mingyu was using it. He picks the razor out of his pocket, sliding the small metal under his laptop on his desk. Nobody ever touches his laptop including Mingyu.

He then climbs up into his bed, cuddling into the blankets and slips his eyes closed. He hears the shower turn off and it takes a while but then he hears Mingyu climbing up into his bed.

Jihoon cuddles into Mingyu almost immediately. The taller boy chuckles lightly and Jihoon doesn’t care as he tries to meld himself into Mingyu’s body. Mingyu wraps his arms around Jihoon and playfully rolls over, dragging Jihoon on top of him who yelps at the sudden movement.

They squirm fight. Jihoon doesn’t know what they’re doing, Mingyu is trying to touch his face but he’s pushing his hands away, and they’re giggling like children as they fight. Mingyu then proceeds to start tickling Jihoon, who screams and laughs and kicks. 

Jihoon wrestles Mingyu, pinning the taller boys hands down to prevent him from tickling him any further. He’s still laughing because Mingyu is.

Jihoon feel elevated in the midst of the moment. He feels... happy. 

Suddenly their laughter dies down. Jihoon is still on top of Mingyu, pinning his hands down. He realizes and lets go, faintly flushing. Mingyu chuckles, canine teeth on display that has Jihoon swooning.

He’s always liked Mingyu. Even when he was annoying him for the past few days. He’s liked Mingyu before he slipped into this dark hole. He kind of pushed him away during it because he felt he deserved to be alone. He’s grateful for Mingyu for trying to help him now.

Jihoon was so pathetically in like with Mingyu.

“Can I... try s-something?” Jihoon stutters. It’s like he’s having an out of body experience. He feels himself saying what he wants to say but he can’t control it.

“Yeah.” Mingyu says, looking up at him with widened eyes.

Jihoon sits up, pulling Mingyu up with him. They adjust so they’re sitting across from one another, Jihoon feels nervous as Mingyu waits for that something.

Jihoon then places his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders, shyly avoiding his eyes but not entirely. He’s unsure what to do because he’s never exactly done something like this. Ever. But Mingyu gets the gist.

The out of body feeling is back. Jihoon is leaning, and it’s surprising for him when Mingyu meets him halfway.

They kiss.

A simple brush of the lips.

But it makes Jihoon’s stomach flip and flop in the best way possible.

Jihoon pulls back, looking up into Mingyu’s eyes to search in hope that he felt the same. When their eyes connect, Jihoon sees fondness, terrified and... love.

It scares Jihoon, but encourages him. He leans down again, but this time they actually kiss.

Closing the gap entirely. Moulding each other’s lips almost perfectly.

Jihoon moves closer, Mingyu wraps his arms around his waist, and their lips move softly together.

It feels... right.

Jihoon’s mind is fuzzy but in a good way.

They kiss for a long while. Jihoon is enjoying every second of it.

He jumps a bit when he feels Mingyu’s tongue brush against his lips, but he opens his mouth and their tongues dance together. Jihoon feels his stomach tighten. He’s never gotten this much action before.

Mingyu is shifting, not breaking their kiss as he lays Jihoon down on the bed, slotting between Jihoon’s spread legs (who is currently flushing brightly and hotly at said spread legs). Mingyu’s hand caresses Jihoon’s face as the other one holds himself up over the smaller boy.

Jihoon gasps when Mingyu bites his bottom lip.

They kiss again, more steamy and hot than before. Mingyu’s hands trail down Jihoon’s sides, creating goosebumps on the older boy’s skin. Jihoon shivers when Mingyu’s hand reach down to his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze before roping around cupping his ass.

Jihoon gasps again when Mingyu gives it a squeeze.

He’s embarrassingly hard in his sweats. Jihoon is a virgin all and out, any physical contact excites him (not literally). He ruts upwards subconsciously, lost within Mingyu’s spell.

Mingyu breaks the kiss, kissing down the side of Jihoon’s cheeks, jawline, and gently pressing kissed down his neck. Jihoon’s breathing is jagged because of the sensations.

God, he might explode (quite literally).

Jihoon’s hands trail from Mingyu’s shoulders down to his pecs, feeling taut muscle flexing. Mingyu’s shirt is hanging, so Jihoon trails his hands to the opening, hands coming into  
contact with Mingyu’s skin. He feels Mingyu shiver.

Mingyu’s hand on his ass slides further, Jihoon feels dry sensation over his hole, and the feeling is odd so he writhes but doesn’t pull away. This seems to encourage Mingyu, who nibbles soft bites into Jihoon’s neck but also drags his hand around to the front of Jihoon’s pants.

Jihoon ruts upwards into Mingyu’s hand, but the younger boy places his large hand on Jihoon’s taut pelvis, diving under his sweats and underwear but skipping the part of Jihoon that is begging for attention. Jihoon cries out when Mingyu’s dry finger touches his hole.

“Mingyu...” He pants. He ruts his naked cock onto Mingyu’s bare forearm, the sensation odd but satisfying.

“Jihoon-ah. Do you think we can...?”

“We’ve gotten this far, Mingyu. It’ll hurt to stop now.”

“But you’re a virgin.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I am, but... Never mind, I agree. So, yes?”

“Yes, Mingyu. Please have sex with me.”

Mingyu kisses Jihoon again, Mingyu retracting his hand from the inside of Jihoon’s sweats.

Now, Jihoon knows how gay sex works. He’s seen some stuff on twitter when he went into the depths of it one night. He knows they do anal - which is a bit odd for him. And intimate, way more intimate than sex with a girl, Jihoon thinks.

But this is Mingyu.

The thought of being intimate with him has his stomach doing stupid little flips. Mingyu pulls away from the kiss, staring deep into Jihoon’s eyes with clouds of passion, lust, and more... love.

Jihoon is forced to close his eyes from the overwhelming feeling he feels. Mingyu gets to work.

Jihoon’s pants is being tugged down, he flushes in embarrassment once he’s fully exposed for Mingyu in the most intimate and completely different way than accidentally walking in on one another in then bathroom.

Mingyu slots right back between Jihoon’s exposed legs, hands roaming the soft skin of his legs, making Jihoon shiver in sensitivity. Jihoon’s always had sensitive skin, per say that’s why he dislikes skinship. Well, in public. He might react too sensually and the fans will start to understand and that’ll be embarrassing.

Suddenly there’s a slick finger pressing against his hole again.

Now, Jihoon has no idea where the lube came from. They’re idols, they can’t just walk into a store and buy lube without someone spotting them and selling the story to the press about pervert idols. He also has no idea where Mingyu kept it and why he had it oh so suddenly at this moment.

Probably had it all planned out to have sex with Jihoon so he kept it in the pocket of his sweats. Ah, Kim Mingyu you pervert.

Jihoon gasps when the finger intrudes his most intimate areas, fingernails digging into the base of Mingyu’s hair, tugging the short hairs. It feels odd, an uncomfortable sensation. Weird. Mingyu crooks a finger, touching something inside that has Jihoon arching his back with a breathy moan.

“A-ah~” Jihoon gasps when Mingyu does it again.

Mingyu looks up into Jihoon’s eyes, Jihoon bashfully looking away.

“Hey, you’re so pretty.” Mingyu says.

Before Jihoon could respond with a snarky comeback about Mingyu being a talkative pervert or something, Mingyu adds a second finger and curls both of them, making Jihoon jolt and kind of yelp-moan. The stretch is there now. Painful, but somewhat pleasurable.

Undecipherable but good. And loud.

Mingyu kisses Jihoon. Probably to drown out his uncontrollable moans and gasps as his fingers work themselves inside of Jihoon. 

It continues like that for a while. Mingyu kissing Jihoon when he got too loud. Kissing his neck, probably leaving marks because Mingyu was a Pervert. Jihoon’s cock begging for attention. Mingyu’s fingers stretching Jihoon out painfully slow but painfully good.

Until Mingyu breaches him with a fourth finger.

Jihoon’s had enough. He wants to feel Mingyu.

“Mingyu, p-please.” He stutters, feeling entirely shy. His cheeks are flushed from both the heat and tenderness he’s feeling.

Mingyu snickers in his neck, the vibrations trailing down Jihoon’s sensitive neck straight to his cock that twitches from neglect. Mingyu removes his fingers with a painful slide, Jihoon convulsing at the strange sensation once he’s empty.

Mingyu helps Jihoon take off his sweater, Jihoon now completely exposed in front of a completely clothed Mingyu. The concept makes his stomach clench. But Mingyu is taking off his own shirt, taut tanned skin on full display. Then his own pants, taking his underwear down with them.

Maybe it was Mingyu’s height. Or his good genes. But Mingyu sure didn’t fall in the category of Asian men having small penises, unlike Jihoon who endowed a whopping three inches. Ah, curse his tiny parents and his equally tiny genes or whatever.

It was long and thick, not dramatically or exaggerated. Jihoon’s not a ruler but he’d say Mingyu’s dick was about six inches the least. But then again, he dropped out of school his final year to fully commit to being a trainee.

He watches Mingyu slick himself up with the rest of the lube in the small packet, he feels like he shouldn’t but it’s happening in front of him and he can’t seem to stop himself. He kind of wants to touch.

Mingyu is crawling back to Jihoon, spreading his legs more. Jihoon flushes when Mingyu’s hand touch the back of his knee, locking it on his shoulder, exposing and opening him more. Jihoon jumps when he feels Mingyu’s cock brush heavily against his ass.

“Ready?” Mingyu asks, eyes boring into Jihoon’s who is a mess right now. It’s a stupid question, Jihoon thinks. Of course he is.

“Yes, you idiot.” He bites.

Mingyu laughs, using a hand to help guide himself. The tip is heavy and hard against Jihoon’s hole, he’s scared for a few seconds before Mingyu is pushing in, causing Jihoon to gasp, the intrusion not as painful as he expected.

It helps him relax enough, adjust as Mingyu fully pushes in, how own breathing irregular as Jihoon scratches his neck. It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Mingyu bottoms out once he’s completely inside. Jihoon is shaking from the stretch burning his core.

“M-Mingyu...” Jihoon gasps after his senses come back.

Mingyu leans down and softly kisses him, Jihoon kisses back desperately, fingers roaming through Mingyu’s dark hair, feeling elevated and sedated. His stomach is already coiling, twitching, the blood in his veins electrocuting him.

Mingyu ruts and Jihoon moans quiet loudly into the kiss. He’s not entirely ready just yet, the stretch still painful, the idea that Mingyu was the cause of the pain he felt was overwhelming. Almost pleasurable just to think of.

Mingyu does it again. Jihoon whimpers but doesn’t tell him to stop. As Mingyu begins to thrust, the pain begins subsiding. Jihoon is breaking the kiss so he could breathe, panting and gasping with every thrust. Mingyu kisses his neck and chest, hand sliding up Jihoon’s arm to connect their hands. Mingyu pins his hand against the bed, their finger interlocked as Mingyu creates a steady rhythm.

Jihoon clenches around Mingyu, savouring the feeling. It makes Mingyu groan, biting into the skin if his collarbone. Jihoon gasps at that sensation.

Jihoon’s cock has been neglected for so long, it was red and hot against his stomach. But Mingyu uses his other hand to clamp around the sensitive muscle. Jihoon whines, he groans and suddenly his body is ten times more hot and his convulsing.

The slight angle change and pressure where he wanted it the most has Jihoon shaking as Mingyu prods something inside of him that has his seeing stars.

“Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu.” Jihoon chants as he edges closer, his senses slackening as blinding pleasure washes over him completely. Mingyu is mumbling words into his skin, Jihoon is wound up in pleasure to try decipher it.

It takes him by surprise, his orgasm. He’s felt it coming, but he didn’t know it was this near. He paints Mingyu’s hand and his stomach white with quite a loud moan, body shaking as sensitivity roars throughout it. His senses are lost, he feels light and blissed.

Mingyu is coming a few thrusts later, painting Jihoon’s insides white with a groan, leaning down to kiss the sated boy. Jihoon gently caresses Mingyu’s cheek with his free hand, feeling extremely grateful to have experienced such a thing with a person he trusts and adores.

They stay like that for a while, basking in each other’s warmth and calming each other’s racing heartbeats.

“Thank you.” Jihoon mutters into Mingyu’s neck. He’s a mess and he knows it.

“No, thank you, Jihoon. For trusting me. For not pushing me away.” Mingyu says with sincerity.

The last part has Jihoon’s heart clenching. He realizes just then that though the past few days he’s been annoyed with Mingyu, he hadn’t thought about isolating himself again.

Mingyu pulls out, Jihoon shifts. His heart still feels elevated. Despite the mess, Mingyu pulls Jihoon close, bringing the blanket over their heated and spent bodies.

Jihoon sighs contently against Mingyu’s chest, feeling sleep rising up within him.

The rest for a while, Mingyu tracing mindless shapes into Jihoon’s skin. Jihoon is sleepy but he can’t seem to sleep. He feels Mingyu’s hand roam his body, not looking to do anything again, but more like imprinting all of Jihoon’s curves and edges into his mind. Appreciating the skin that builds his home.

Mingyu stops at Jihoon’s arm. Jihoon kind of fidgets. He’s scared Mingyu is going to remove the band or something and see he newly added scars. It makes Jihoon’s heart hurt so suddenly.

But Mingyu doesn’t. He ghosts his fingers over the wrist band, pulling Jihoon closer.

Jihoon feels like shit.

Mingyu only wants to help because he cares, and he thought he was helping. But Jihoon ruins everything.

Why did he have to relapse? Why did he need to hurt himself in order to feel something? Mingyu trusted him. A few hours ago, Jihoon disregarded Mingyu’s trust. It wasn’t that important. But after realizing how much Mingyu genuinely cared about him, he feels like absolute garbage.

He let not only himself down, but also Mingyu.

Jihoon falls asleep hours later Mingyu has, feeling more alone than ever.

 

“Wow, the song really came out great, Jihoon. It’s really good,” Seungcheol praised after listening to the final demo. Jihoon beamed at the praise. It’s been a while since that happened. It made him feel a bit better. “I have a good feeling about this comeback. Thanks for your hard work.” Seungcheol says, smiling at Jihoon who smiles back.

Wow. People being genuinely nice to him. Him feeling good about the praise. What a concept.

Seungcheol leaves after a little more discussion about if the choreography should change to adjust to the slightly changed beats (which final vote was no). Jihoon is left alone in his studio once again.

His wrist itches from last night’s cuts. The band has gotten dried with a lot of blood, it makes it harder and takes longer than usual for them to heal. He removed the band, eyeing the pretty gory sight of dried blood smudged around his damaged wrists.

It’s sickening. But Jihoon is searching his pocket for his razor cased in a small box wrapped in tissue. He didn’t want to risk anyone (especially Mingyu) to find a small box in his pocket and becoming suspicious so he wrapped it in tissue to make it look like trash he forgot to throw out.

He unwraps the tissue, opening up the tiny brown box and revealing a shiny razor.

He didn’t hesitate to cut his arm open again. Jihoon liked the tingly sensation. He liked watching the blood drip down his arm. It made him feel alive.

He cleaned himself up, placing the band tentatively around his wrist since his cuts were becoming more sensitive from lack of proper care. He disposed the bloodied tissues in the bin where more laid. He put his razor back in the box, wrapping it in more tissue and pocketing the object.

Jihoon suddenly felt really bad. Sad.

He got up from his desk, leaving his studio with a fuzzy mind and spotty vision. It wasn’t worrying anymore, the spots. Just annoying.

Jihoon walked down the empty hallway, searching for one person. His person.

He knew where to find said person.

Jihoon walked until he reached the practice room. He looked inside the window, see it was almost empty save for a few members sitting together on the floor. He spotted the person he was looking for.

Jihoon opened the door, walking into the dimmed room and made his way over to Mingyu.

The taller boy had his back facing Jihoon’s way, he was conversing with Minghao, Wonwoo, Hansol and Seungkwan. Jihoon couldn’t hear any words spoken.

He couldn’t even hear Mingyu’s voice when the taller turned around. Mingyu must’ve noticed his dazed expression because he was standing up instantly, excusing himself from their friends.

Jihoon watched as Mingyu’s mouth moved but all he heard was static. It was annoying.

Suddenly the three others in the room were getting up and leaving, bidding their farewells to both Mingyu and Jihoon.

Once Jihoon was alone with Mingyu, he felt heavy in the chest. He heard a small ting, somewhere at the back of his mind, and suddenly Mingyu’s voice was pouring in his ears.

“Jihoonie, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Jihoon shook his head, leaning against the wall, pulling Mingyu closer and down with him. They sat on the floor together, Jihoon shamelessly climbed into Mingyu’s lap, leaning his head against his chest as Mingyu held him close.

It was comforting knowing he could be this close to someone with no questions asked. It helped him calm down whenever his mood went foggy like this.

They sat in silence for quite a long time. Jihoon listening to Mingyu’s steady beat as the taller boy quietly hummed and continued holding Jihoon close and tight.

It was nice. Relaxing. Calming.

Jihoon didn’t even realize that he fell asleep until Mingyu was quietly whispering for him to wake up.

“Hoonie, wake up... Let’s go back to the dorm...”

Jihoon was too tired to even consider walking back to the dorms. He knew he had no choice. But he didn’t want to.

“No..” Jihoon whined, nuzzling closer into Mingyu in hopes to disappear.

It happened suddenly. Jihoon woke up when he was being placed on a soft surface.

It took him a dazed look around to realize they were in his studio and Mingyu had put him on the sofa. He didn’t even feel Mingyu move him.

Mingyu laid with him as much as the sofa space would allow two men to lay. It was comfy enough that Jihoon fell asleep with his cheek smushed against Mingyu’s chest, the taller boy wrapping both arms around him.

 

Jihoon liked to pretend he was getting better. Truth was, he wasn’t. He still felt like garbage. The dark hole he was in was getting bigger and sometimes he didn’t even realize it until he was completely alone. Mingyu was a distraction from his never ending sadness.

A nice distraction. A sweet distraction.

But Jihoon wasn’t getting better. His wrist was number than ever. He couldn’t feel the tingles anymore.

Mingyu had thought that for the past week and a half that Jihoon was getting better, it hurt Jihoon to lie to Mingyu about something so seriously.

But then again, the rarely talked about Jihoon’s mental state. Jihoon tried hard to change the subject whenever Mingyu brought it up, he felt so shameful and he didn’t want to burden the younger with his troubles. That meant bottling up his emotions. And it was overflowing.

They cuddled a lot. Kissed. Shared giggles. Held each other when Jihoon was feeling sad. Mingyu was his rock. He was there to keep him sane. Steady him when things got rocky. But they haven’t been intimate in any way since the first time. Which was fine.

But it hurt to basically lie in Mingyu’s face.

Today, Jihoon was a bit stressed. They were learning a new choreography for their side track. Jihoon hadn’t got much sleep, he was pretty tired and his state really didn’t help anything. He stumbled around, accidentally stepped on toes, and was frequently missing beats.

He was so tired. He just wanted to call it a day.

It was obvious the others picked up on Jihoon’s low mood, thus making the atmosphere tense. Soonyoung was obviously annoyed, so was Seungcheol. It made everyone else snappy.

Mingyu was no exception as he received a scolding from Soonyoung for once again missing a step (which was Jihoon’s fault since he was technically guiding him) and scowling in response.

Jihoon was exhausted as his heart beat heavily in his chest once their choreography came to an end. It obviously wasn’t successful as Jihoon missed more than a few steps and actually smacked Chan in the face during the spin.

“Done!”

The group immediately parted ways, breaking apart as Jihoon fell to the floor in exhaustion. He was dehydrated and his lungs were hurting and the spotty vision was back. It felt like his body was closing in on him.

Practice was done for the day. Maybe he can escape back to the dorms and sleep away the pain he felt.

“Hey, Jihoon,” Soonyoung was crouching in front of Jihoon suddenly. “Please get your shit together. Today’s practice has been total shit because of you.” Soonyoung snarls, walking away before Jihoon could react.

Jihoon knew everything was his fault. He was ruining the group. His skills were no longer sharp, he was holding everybody back. He shouldn’t even be in the group anymore. The thought hurt his heart.

Everyone was leaving the practice room, Jihoon was pushing himself off the floor just as Mingyu was coming his way.

“Jihoon, what was that? Why are you more worse today than usual?” Mingyu asks, eyes clouded with anger.

Jihoon freezes. Worse than usual? Has he always been worse?

“I-I-“

“It’s really annoying, Jihoon. You’re holding us back, you need to stop it.”

Stop it? Was it just that easy? Could Jihoon have just stopped his bad thoughts, stop his skills from failing? Could he just stop his urge to cut himself? Could he just stop the need of feeling something to show he was alive? It wasn’t that easy. 

“You’re a f-fucking idiot, M-Mingyu.” Jihoon spat. He pushed aside his feelings of despair and sadness in exchange for anger.

“What? What did you call me, huh?” Mingyu growls. Jihoon stands strong, eyes boring just as hard into Mingyu’s own.

“A fucking idiot. Because you are one. You think it’s easy to just stop it? You’re a stupid fucking idiot-“

Jihoon is shoved. He stumbles, a bit scared for a moment, looking up at Mingyu with confusion. Before the anger returns and he’s pushing Mingyu back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jihoon growls. His mind is hazy. So much had happened in a short time. So many bad thoughts are swarming his brain. “You’re an idiot. You’re so fucking annoying, you know-“

There’s a crash. Jihoon vision is fluffy and blocked but when it clears enough, he’s on the floor, looking up at Mingyu with a burning sensation on his cheek.

It occurs to him that Mingyu slapped him.

Mingyu. 

The person who was his rock for the past few days. The person who only gave him tentative and gentle touches. Who cared so much about him.

He brings a hazy hand to his cheek, sleeve of his (Mingyu’s) sweater falling down, exposing his reddened and still fresh cuts. He forgot to put on his band that morning.

Jihoon’s vision is blurring as a lump forms. He doesn’t look at Mingyu as he scrambles back once Mingyu steps closer. He can’t hear whatever it is Mingyu is saying. He forces himself to stand up, nearly falling over as he runs out of the practice room.

Jihoon’s vision is blurred with unshed tears and spotted with those fucking spots. His body hurts. His head is running wild. 

He pushes past people in the hallway, it’s not like he can’t hear them question it anyways.

He runs. Jihoon runs until he finds himself back at their dorm.

Nobody is home.

Jihoon is angry. He’s upset.

He goes into his empty shared dorm, closing the door with an aggressive slam just to relieve some of the anger bubbling in him. He pulls at his hair, tears pouring down his face as his body shakes uncontrollably.

Suddenly, he’s knocking everything off of his desk. He’s so angry that he doesn’t care, his mind hazy as he stomps on the fallen items.

He punches the dresser built in his bunk bed, reddening his knuckles. He screams.

He takes off Mingyu’s godforsaken sweater, immediately scratching at his cuts, painfully reopening them as he cries.

Jihoon hates Mingyu. He’s a fucking idiot who doesn’t understand anything.

Blood drips from his cuts almost like a river. Jihoon goes to the bathroom, slamming the door locked. With a hazed and tired mind, Jihoon retrieves the razor from his pocket. The hiding strategy annoys him and he sobs more as it takes a while to open it up. He grabs the small metal and immediately punctures his skin, dragging the cut down vertically further than before.

He slashes his wrists, unable to feel anything as his body shakes. The sight makes Jihoon’s knees buckles, he falls onto the bathroom floor, watching as blood poured from his bloody arm. It was gruesome. 

Jihoon tried to stop it with a towel. Stop the bleeding. It only soaks right through the towel as his wounds continue to spill. He wonders if he accidentally cut too deep. Maybe he actually his a vein this time.

He can’t feel it. He couldn’t feel if that was the case or not. 

Jihoon starts sobbing because he’s just so tired. He doesn’t want to be like this anymore. He’s so weak. He’s so sad. It doesn’t scare him at all that he might bleed out to death. He’s so numb. He can’t even hear his own sobs.

He tries to clean up the blood on the white bathroom floor (but fails as there’s quite a lot and all he has is an already soaked face towel). It’s the least he could do, Mingyu shouldn’t be stuck cleaning up blood at the end of the day. 

The thought of Mingyu has Jihoon crying even more.

He fucking hates Mingyu.

Jihoon pulls at his hair once he realizes that he’s in this mess alone. This is entirely his own fault. He’s so pathetic.

Before he knows it, he’s cutting himself again.

Dragging the razor across damaged skin.

He doesn’t want to live like this anymore.

His brain is fuzzy, vision spotting and hearing non existent.

Everything is his own fault. He’s the one who feels the way he feels. He has no one else to blame. It’s all on him.

And god, he’s just so tired.

He holds his bloodied arm close to himself, staining his white shirt, exhaustion coursing through his body as he falls limp against the bathtub.

His head hurts. So does his heart.

There’s the ting again.

Suddenly he’s aware of the banging on the door, the shouting.

It hurts him even more. He could hear his own heartbeat resting down.

The banging doesn’t stop. Jihoon wishes it would so he could rest in peace.

Jihoon’s vision is spotty. Nearly black from being so still, from being so tired. His arm aches. His heart aches.

Suddenly, there are hands on him. Gentle but shaky hands, pulling him up from his slump. The quick motion makes the spots disappear for a few hazy seconds to catch glimpse of the person.

Mingyu. Of course.

He hears yelling and sobs. He hears words but he can’t decipher them as his mind fogs over. He’s so tired.

But Mingyu is forcing him to look up, Jihoon sees the other members surrounding the door. He sees the tears flowing freely down Mingyu’s face. He sees the bright bathroom light. It burns his eyes but he can’t look away.

Mingyu is talking to him, Jihoon could see it from the corner of his eye but he’s in so much pain both physically and mentally that he’s so exhausted. So tired. He looks at Mingyu with low and tired eyes. Jihoon wants to say he’s sorry for being a burden to Mingyu. Thank him for caring enough. Instead the bathroom fades into darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jihoon wakes up with a jolt. His hands are restricted to the bed, and when he tries to move them, he realizes his legs are also locked down. He’s scared. Mind clouded as he attempts to free himself from his restraints, struggling with a few sobs as he takes in the unfamiliar and dimmed room.

He have seemed to have alerted someone because then there’s people in gowns rushing to his aid, the bright lights flickering on and blinding him.

Jihoon begins to cry as nurses hold down his struggling limbs. His brain can’t process anything. Suddenly a mask is being placed over his face and he struggles more out of fear. He can’t hear any of what the nurses are saying, his mind is too fogged.

They look calming though, like it hurts them to  
see him like this. Whatever it is Jihoon is forced to inhale is calming his nerves. He stops struggling and falls limp. Not sleepy, but out of strength.

The nurses do a checkup. Jihoon failing the responding parts as he can’t hear anything because of the static. His eyes focus on the female nurse in front of him.

The ting.

“You’re okay, sweetie, you’re okay. Just calm down, you’ll be okay. You have a lot of people who care about you, they asked about you a lot and stayed stuffed up in the waiting room. You’re okay now.” The nurse says in a gentle coaxing voice.

Jihoon feels tears silently fall, he blinks them away and the nurse moves his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“You’re probably tired, aren’t you? I know it’s tough, but you matter to people whether you know it or not.” The nurse says. Her eyes are filled with sorrow and Jihoon is forced to look away.

They’re speaking to him like he’s mental. It makes him angry but he doesn’t have enough strength to fight back. Not that he would. The words do soothe him somewhat.

“Do you want to see your friends? They’ve just asked about you about an hour ago..”

Jihoon wants to decline. He can’t face any of the members right now. He’s too embarrassed. He didn’t think he’d have to face them again. He thought he’d be dead.

But he finds himself nodding.

The nurse smiles, standing up straight and dragging out the other nurses who were checking his vitals and all that good stuff. Jihoon wanted to take the mask off, it made his feel vulnerable and dependant on whatever he was inhaling to remain sane. But his hands are still locked down. The thought makes even more tears fall down.

It takes a while, Jihoon’s heart is thrumming heavily in his chest. He didn’t know he closed his eyes until he feels a hand gently pushing his hair back and finds it a struggle to open them up again.

The faces of 12 of his members face him. They all look worried, distraught, upset, relieved, unsure, scared - many things at once. It’s overwhelming. He looks up to the person stroking his hair, eyes falling on his leader and very first friend.

“How are you feeling?” Seungcheol asks to break the tension. It snaps and suddenly everyone is less tense. Less unsure of what to do. It’s freeing.

Jihoon just shakes his head. He’s scared to talk. His voice feels lost at the moment.

He lets his eyes roam on each member. They all look distraught behind their gazes at Jihoon. All of them seemingly whispering their thoughts from their eyes. It makes Jihoon’s stomach clench. He looks at every member, just to take in their expressions.

Mingyu.

Mingyu looked sullen. Conflicted. Scared. Upset. His eyes were red, Jihoon wanted to know why.

“Jihoon, the comeback has been put on a temporary hiatus. PD said you have to get better, he wishes you well. I’m... I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I treated you so rudely. I’m never going to forgive myself.” Soonyoung says. He looks upset. Like he might cry. Maybe he was already crying. Jihoon only stared at him. There wasn’t much he could do when he couldn’t find his voice and his hands were restricted.

“I’ve been a bad dongsaeng to hyung. I didn’t ask how you were feeling, I noticed you were acting different but I was too scared to ask.” Chan says. Jihoon simply shakes his head.

They need to know that not any of them were to blame. This was Jihoon’s own fault. He did this to himself because he believed he deserved it.

At the end of the day, he was himself to blame. He knew that.

The visit lasted quite a while. The sad stuff lasted until Chan’s expression. Seokmin was telling him funny stories about Seungkwan and his vending machine debacle earlier today. Jeonghan was making snide remarks that made Jihoon chuckle weakly.

All and all, Mingyu remained quiet and stoic the entire time. Jihoon tried not to focus on him.

Just then, the door opened. It was a doctor and the same nurse from earlier.

“Alright, guys. I need to speak to the patient for a few minutes. After that, visiting hours is over.” The doctor said. The members seemed upset by the news but didn’t say anything about it. They bid farewell to Jihoon, patting his head or, like Junhui started the trend of, kissing his forehead that left him fighting back (playfully, of course).

All of them were gone.

The doctor checked his clipboard as the nurse finally removed the mask from his face.

Jihoon took a tentative inhale of oxygen and felt heavy. The nurse began unlocking Jihoon’s restraints. Jihoon felt normal again. He lifted his hand up, seeing his damaged wrist bandaged up with vitals pierced underneath. Once he was fully removed from restraints, the doctor began talking.

“So, Lee Jihoon. You’re an idol, yes?” The doctor asks. Jihoon nods. “You’re doing fairly well at that. But a break is required. Do you know why you’re in the hospital?”

Of course. He nearly killed himself. Jihoon nods.

“You’re here because of an attempted suicide. It’s been reported to a psychologist, and they want you to start therapy. Your friends have been telling us, of course, I won’t name who, that you’ve been feeling like this for quite some time. You’ve been harming yourself, not quite responding and in general, not feeling like yourself. I’m not a psychologist, so I won’t try to say anything else.” The doctor says. Jihoon basks it all in.

Of course. Therapy.

“Your medical bills have been disregarded. You have stitches and you were on blood fusion the first night. You’re on basic IV for now, all your vitals seem regular. You’ve done really well, Mr. Lee. Your body is a fighter. Get some rest, you’ll be up early for the changing of your bandages.” The doctor finalizes.

Jihoon doesn’t watch as the doctor and nurse leave. His mind is too muddled. 

Therapy... His body fighting for survival. There’s so much to take in. It’s overwhelming.

Jihoon finds himself crying. He doesn’t know if it’s sad or relieved crying. Maybe both.

He doesn’t hear the door open and close softly.

Jihoon brings a hand to wipe away his tears, then trailing it down to his damaged arm, feeling the snugness of the bandage. It was tight so he wouldn’t try to remove it.

Suddenly a hand is on top of his own.

Jihoon looks up in surprise, eyes falling on none other than Kim Mingyu.

He gets a flashback from that day. Mingyu pushing him so suddenly. Slapping him hard enough to fall over. It was scary.

Jihoon pulls away from Mingyu’s touch. He turns his head away from Mingyu, closing his eyes. He doesn’t want to talk to Mingyu. He doesn’t even want to look at him.

“Jihoon, please...”

Mingyu sounds so fragile. So pathetic.

But Jihoon doesn’t owe him anything.

“I-I’m sorry. I k-know that won’t change anything, b-but. I’m sorry. Please. I wish I didn’t do that, I-I think about it all the time. You looked so confused and hurt, I-I... I have no excuse for what I did.. I was blinded by anger, Jihoon, please. I’m sorry. I hate myself. So much. For being the reason for this... I’ll never forgive myself.”

Mingyu sounds so helpless. So upset. 

Jihoon is crying behind his eyelids because damn, emotions. They’re worse when you’re on drugs.

Jihoon opens his eyes and turns to look at Mingyu.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Then Jihoon is reaching outwards. Mingyu immediately falls into his arms. Jihoon hugs Mingyu tight, wiping his wet eyes on his sweater. Mingyu is shaking in his arms.

It’s so pathetic.

Mingyu ends up laying in the hospital bed with Jihoon, holding him close as Jihoon feels his heart swelling in his tight chest. They lay together for a long time. Jihoon is surprised no nurses came to check up on him.

Mingyu is nuzzling his nose into Jihoon’s hair, playing with his fingers as Jihoon relishes in the familiar feeling of warmth and safety. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

But alas.

A nurse comes in and kicks Mingyu out.

With a promise to see him soon, Mingyu is gone and Jihoon is once again alone. Except he doesn’t feel so empty.

 

Jihoon is discharged from the hospital a week later after his wounds finally healed. He thanks the nurses for taking care of him. He carries his plastic bag filled with medical supplies for changing his gauze and such.

There’s a van waiting for him at the back of the hospital and he finds it with no problem. He climbs inside and it’s their usual driver. He takes Jihoon back to the dorms.

Jihoon starts therapy tomorrow and he’s not really looking forward to that.

The ride is silent. A nice change from the talkative nurses making Jihoon open up from their sweet smiles and genuine care. It’s nice. Jihoon watches the buildings roll by from the window.

The hospital stay wasn’t that bad. Members visited nearly everyday, especially Mingyu who did visit everyday up till his release. The nurses were nice. The food wasn’t entirely horrible. But the TV channels did suck. He also wasn’t able to get his phone so he was forced to watch bad kdramas and weird sci-fi’s.

They arrived to the dorms. Jihoon thanked the driver as he got out of the van. It felt weird to be back here after a week, but it felt right. He walked up into the dorm, hesitating when he reached the door.

He turned the doorknob slow, opening the door. It was rowdy like usual. Members talking over one another, the TV playing some sort of show, someone’s music playing from their phone. It was familiar. He closed the door behind him.

Nobody seemed to notice he was home, or didn’t make a big deal of it. It calmed Jihoon down. It relaxed him that it was okay.

Hansol was the first to say anything.

“Hey, hyung. We’re ordering food, do you want the usual?” Hansol asks. It draws everyone’s attention and it’s silent. Jihoon kind of freezes at the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Uh, yeah. But extra sides, please.” Jihoon says.

He’s very hungry. He barely ate the hospital food because it was not really good. 

His response elevates the atmosphere once again. Members are smiling and laughing, pulling Jihoon into hugs and welcoming him back. It’s nice to be rained in positive attention, Jihoon decides.

He also decides to take a shower. Or bath. As recommended by the nurses so he wouldn’t wet his gauze. It was freshly changed before he was discharged, he couldn’t change it for two days the most.

Jihoon went to his room after excusing himself, the members pestering him as he escaped.

When he got to his room, Mingyu was sitting at his desk. Jihoon noticed the stuff on his desk have been picked up and fixed. Even the picture frame of Jihoon and the rest of Seventeen that he most likely shattered that night. It was in a completely new frame.

Jihoon placed his plastic bag on his desk, opening it up and rummaging through it to retrieve his pills. They were required to help the healing process of his wounds - to make his skin thick again. Pretty weird. It made Jihoon’s arm numb for the night but it worked. He saw the way his skin was scarring over faster.

He was required to take two before each meal. He did just that, drinking the water on his desk. The warm water tickled his throat. It was nice.

Suddenly arms were around him.

Jihoon sighed in content and leaned back, placing the cup on the desk before turning around and huddled close to Mingyu. He missed Mingyu. Missed his never ending warmth.

He felt Mingyu kiss the top of his head.

Jihoon pulled away.

“I’ve got to take a bath.” He said.

“A bath?” Mingyu asked. Nobody took baths nowadays.

“Yeah, it’s required to help relax me but also not to wet my gauze and reopen wounds.” Jihoon said with a sigh.

Mingyu nods.

“Let’s go together.”

“Oh please, you wouldn’t even fit in the bathtub let alone both of us.” Jihoon chuckles. Mingyu was an idiot.

“Fine, I’ll sit on the outside. I just missed you, okay?” Mingyu pouts. 

They head to the bathroom together. Jihoon tries hard to push the memories away. It’s scary and still very vivid. He kind of shakes when he turns on the tap. Mingyu seems to notice his distress.

“Hey. Why don’t you wait in the room? I’ll prepare everything. I’ll even put bubbles.”

God. Mingyu was such an idiot and Jihoon was so whipped.

Jihoon finds himself searching his wardrobe for clothes instead.

It takes a few minutes. Jihoon busies himself by putting away his medical stuff on the shelf of his desk and finding his phone. It’s on his bed and the battery is completely dead. He plugs it into the charger just as Mingyu peaks out of the bathroom.

“It’s ready~”

Jihoon narrows his eyes but follows Mingyu into the bathroom. The tub is filled with bubbles and there’s a lit candle on the edge. He glares at Mingyu.

“Why are you like this...” Jihoon says tenderly. Mingyu only laughs in response.

Jihoon takes off his (Mingyu’s) sweater, hanging it on the hook. Mingyu is watching him. 

“Stop watching me, you pervert.” Jihoon bites.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Help me.”

Mingyu actually helps him to undress. It’s stupid, Jihoon is fighting back with giggles as Mingyu tugs his clothes from his body.

Jihoon wasn’t entirely shy being naked. Not 100% comfortable but he didn’t care if anybody saw him in such a way. But he felt vulnerable under Mingyu’s gaze. He felt small. Not in a bad way.

It wasn’t sexual, though. Jihoon was fully unclothed and was stepping into the bathtub, the hot water relaxing his achy bones as he sat down, cupping a handful of bubbles. Mingyu sat down on the floor and they faced each other.

Jihoon rested his gauzed arm on the edge of the cup, smelling the vanilla scented candle lit just a few inches away.

The bath was innocent. Jihoon played with the bubbles because he’s never had a bubble bath since he was an actual child. Mingyu was tentative but made remarks here and there that made Jihoon giggle.

It felt like an alternate universe.

Like Jihoon didn’t just get discharged from the hospital less than an hour ago from an attempted suicide. Like Jihoon wasn’t sad anymore.

The bubbles, Jihoon’s opened emotions, Mingyu’s canines and the stupid candle made him feel like he was okay.

“The food’s here!” Seokmin peaked into the bathroom. Jihoon forgot the door wasn’t even closed to neither the bathroom or their bedroom.

Jihoon shied away in the water and Mingyu turned around. Seokmin had a wondering look.

Nobody knew about Mingyu and Jihoon. They didn’t tell anyone. And if somebody did in fact know anything for any particular reason, they were silent.

Apparently Seokmin didn’t know anything.

“Thanks, Seok. We’ll be out soon.” Mingyu says.

Seokmin leaves and Jihoon looks at Mingyu.

They share hushed laughter.

 

Jihoon hums. His text twitches and he feels heavy. He’s full of anxieties as he waits.

His therapist. Dr. Lee. Was busy. With another patient. Jihoon came too early. Of course.

Until then, the door was opening and a young girl left the office. She looked distraught. Jihoon dared to watch her leave.

“Ah, you must be Jihoon. Come in.” Dr. Lee said.

Dr. Lee was a man. An old man. He kind if reminded Jihoon of his grandfather as he sat down on the sofa across from Dr. Lee who stirred his cup.

“What brings you here today, Jihoon?” Dr. Lee asks like he doesn’t already know why. Jihoon fidgets. He’s never been good at talking about himself. His feelings. It was very difficult for him. But he felt like he should. Because there was a lot he wanted to say but he was scared it wouldn’t be important to what the doctor wants.

“Say, what’s the reason for the bandage on your arm?” Dr. Lee asks, motioning to the bandage peaking out from under Jihoon’s (Mingyu’s) sweater.

Jihoon looks down at it. Tentatively, he pulls down his sweater to display how high the bandage really went. Nearly the crook of his elbow.

“Um. The hospital...” Jihoon began.

“Surely the hospital didn’t injure you.”

“Of course not. Uh. I-I did it to myself. With a razor. To feel something.” Jihoon admits through tight teeth. His chest is seizing.

“What do you mean to feel something, Jihoon?” Dr. Lee asks.

“Uh. I have... episodes? Where... I can’t feel things. Or hear things. It makes me hurt myself because I can feel it. Only slightly. It’s a tingle.”

Jihoon is a bit more confident as he continues speaking. It feels good to open up his tight chest.

“Those happen whenever I become too sad. I’ve been sad lately, also tired. Everything small triggered it. My friends scolding me, my thoughts that I don’t really belong here, the pressure to be... normal... perfect.”

And so Jihoon lets everything off of his chest. He tries to answer Dr. Lee’s questions in the honest truth. He doesn’t sugar coat his feelings, his gives the doctor the raw truth. How his mood changes, how he feels numb, everything.

By the end of the session, Dr. Lee begins to think.

Jihoon feels vulnerable for exposing his deepest and darkest secrets in front of a total stranger. But at the same time, if feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. It’s a mix of emotions, both good and bad.

A storm within his soul that he can’t decided if he’s thankful for or upset with.

“From what you’ve told me, Jihoon, is that you might have schizoaffective disorder. Signs of schizophrenia, from the lack of senses. But not entirely that as you described depression, briefly bipolar disorder. Those are common among people with schizoaffective disorder. It can be treated, Jihoon. With anti depressants and paliperidone. I want you to see a psychiatrist to get a prescription. There’s one on the second floor and a pharmacy just around the corner. I also want to see you again this week. Do you think you can do both?”

There’s a lot to take in. Schizoaff- what? Bipolar? Depression? Jihoon has no idea what he was feeling was that... complex. It scares him. It scares him that the human body could feel such things.

“Y-yeah, I can.” Jihoon agrees nonetheless.

 

At the end of the day, Jihoon is walking home with a brown bag in his hand. The physiatrist was a kind woman, and understanding one who helped calm Jihoon down before his CT scan (seriously! Those were terrifying machines!). He had to wait quite a while for the results.

It was nerve racking.

But alas. Jihoon was brought into the office with the doctor. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, which made him upset. She didn’t seem to notice as she read off her list. Jihoon felt upset.

He left her office with a piece of paper confirming his diagnosis and a prescription list.

Now here Jihoon was.

Walking down the street to the dorm. He was supposed to call Seungcheol when he was done so he could pick him up with a managers car. But Jihoon didn’t feel good to talk to anybody and he decided to just walk to clear his mind.

Maybe taking medication for the rest of his life wasn’t so bad. If it’ll help him become who he once was again, he’d take that over daily episodes. He lifted the brown bag up to view, reading the stapled piece of paper.

Antipsychotic Drug: Paliperidone (Invega)  
TAKE TWO CAPSULES ONCE A DAY  
TAKE ONE CAPSULE DURING EPISODE

Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs)  
TAKE ONE CAPSULE ONCE A DAY

It was scary. Those words - Jihoon could barely pronounce them. He didn’t know what any of them meant. It was confusing.

Jihoon made it back to the dorms a lot later than he intended to. The dorm was quiet. Signalling the members were either not home or resting. Jihoon went straight to his bedroom, checking the time. The room was empty.

It was almost 6pm, his therapy session ended at 3. He was supposed to find an hour to take his pills everyday. 6pm was a good time. He was almost always awake at such time.

He opened his paper bag, digging in it and pulling out a bottle of pills and a box. The box were his antidepressants. The bottle was for his schizoaffective disorder (Jihoon would never get used to that).

Jihoon opened the bottle, taking out the cotton before pouring two pills into his palm. They were regular sized. Average. Good. Jihoon then opened up the box, pulling out a sheet of pills. They were dated from Monday to Sunday. Jihoon is pretty sure today is Tuesday. He pops out the Tuesday pill, abandoning the medication and leaving to the kitchen.

He held all three pills in his hand, searching the kitchen for a glass. He found one and filled it up with tap water, dunking the pills down is throat and swallowing the water to wash them down.

It felt uncomfortable.

A few silent seconds, Jihoon felt no different. Hm. Maybe they don’t work so obviously. He drank the rest of the water, putting the empty cup in the sink once he was done.

He turned around to head back to his room to maybe lay in bed until he falls asleep, but Mingyu had him stopping in his tracks. The taller boy looked confused.

“How come you didn’t text anyone anything? We were worried about you, Hoonie.” Mingyu asks sadly. Jihoon feels bad now. He guess he should’ve at least texted anyone.

“I-I don’t know...” Jihoon admits.

Maybe it was the sudden release of serotonin fighting his sad cells, but Jihoon felt emotional. Suddenly, he was engulfed in a hug. He pressed his face into Mingyu’s chest, feeling utterly hopeless.

“It’s okay, Jihoon. I know you had a long day, don’t worry about it. You’re here now. Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Jihoon nods against Mingyu’s chest. He’s not exactly crying. His eyes just burn and he’s tired. It makes him feel sad. 

Mingyu leads them both back to the room, closing the door behind them as Jihoon begins to take off his clothes. His skin feels a bit hot - a side effect from the medication. He strips down to his underwear, which seems to encourage Mingyu to do the same.

He climbs up his bed, the sheets cold against his heated skin. He cuddles into his blankets, watching the lights turn off and the tall lanky man climbing onto his bed. Mingyu curls up under the blanket against Jihoon, their bare skin touching.

“You’re so warm.” Mingyu says, pulling Jihoon close to him. The smaller boy sighs in content.

“It’s the meds. I was cold earlier.” Jihoon says, which was true. It was cold outside and the long walk left his skin accustomed to the coldness, he felt like a corpse. Now he’s warm enough to probably survive without the blanket.

Jihoon feels playful. It’s odd. Just a while ago he was upset. Maybe it was the anti depressants? He’s read that they only released serotonin. To make him neutral. Maybe it was Mingyu. He tended to have that effect on him sometimes.

Jihoon climbed up on Mingyu, straddling his waist. It took Mingyu by surprise, but he didn’t complain. Jihoon grinned down at Mingyu.

“You’re very handsome.” Jihoon says to Mingyu.

“Thanks. You’re prettily handsome.” Mingyu replies with just as much sincerity.

“Hm? Pretty? I’m a boy.”

“Boys can be pretty.”

“Yeah, true. You’re pretty, too. I like your face.”

“Wow, I like your face, too.”

Jihoon giggles, pulling Mingyu up by the shoulders so he was forced to sit up. The taller boy’s hands immediately rest on Jihoon’s bare hips, thumbs brushing over the protruding hipbones.

“You’re an idiot.” Jihoon chuckles.

“See? I like it when you say it that way, not in an offensive way.” Mingyu says.

“Oh, shut up.” Jihoon mutters, pulling Mingyu closer and closing the gap between them.

They kiss passionately, closely, and full of love and desperation. It’s been so long since they were able to do this. It feels so right. Jihoon feels elevated. His heart is beating fast within his chest. His fingers are tugging gently at Mingyu’s hair, relishing in the feeling of Mingyu’s hands tightening around his hips.

Jihoon is excited. He can tell that Mingyu feels the same from where he’s sitting on his lap. Mingyu’s hands begin to roam, one of them cupping his ass cheek, eliciting gasps, and the other one ghosting over his nipples.

Jihoon feels his cock hardening to fullness as Mingyu breaks the kiss to kiss down his neck, massaging the supple flesh of his ass while rolling the bud of his nipple gently between the pads of his fingers. 

Jihoon feels light.

The next thing he knows, his underwear is off and Mingyu has two fingers worked inside of him as they remain in the same position. Jihoon gasps as he pushes down onto the fingers, using his hand to force Mingyu to look up at him. Their breath mingles as Jihoon pants for a few seconds before he leans down, capturing Mingyu’s lips.

Time slips away.

Mingyu is pressing his slicked up cock against Jihoon’s hole, Jihoon lifts his hips, groaning when he sits down, his hole stretching tightly. The angle is new and sensational, Jihoon shivers once he’s finally taken all of Mingyu.

Mingyu pants into Jihoon’s neck.

Jihoon rolls his hips and moans when Mingyu brushes something inside of him that has his toes curling and veins igniting. 

It stays slow and passionate. Jihoon is in charge, he’s rolling his hips as Mingyu’s hands roam his bare body. The sensations are good, it feels more intimate like Mingyu is touching everything. It has Jihoon’s gut clenching as he tightens his hold around Mingyu, inhaling the musky and sweet scent of his body wash mixed with sweat in the crook of his neck.

The position makes Jihoon feel so much closer. Like they’re hugging. It makes Jihoon soft.

Jihoon works himself open until he feels the familiar coil in the pit of his stomach, unraveling as Mingyu bites and nips at his neck. 

It doesn’t take long or a lot of work to get both of them off, they’re still inexperienced and needy. 

With that, Jihoon is coming with a soft moan between their stomachs, digging his teeth into Mingyu’s flesh above his collarbone. It shakes him as he continues working Mingyu to his own release, feeling spent but determined.

“Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu..” Jihoon chants.

Mingyu is groaning, slightly rutting up as Jihoon rolls and bounces.

“Hoonie, Hoonie. My Jihoonie,” Mingyu breathes into Jihoon’s neck. It makes Jihoon shiver and stomach twist. He clenches around Mingyu, relishing the caught breath and soft groan. Mingyu slightly stiffens, coming with a groan. “I love you, I love you.”

Jihoon keens at the words. He works Mingyu through his orgasm, feeling unreal as emotions flutter through his entire body and mind.

They still. Come to a halt. Their breathing is irregular and Jihoon shakes as he holds Mingyu close to him.

God. He adored Mingyu so much.

Jihoon picked his head up, looking up at Mingyu for a short second before sealing the night with a tender kiss. He felt sated. He felt okay. He felt warm.

Mingyu pulled the both of them down to lay on the bed, Jihoon giggled in the kiss and was forced to pull Mingyu out as the position was a bit odd. He groaned as he felt the wetness, cursing Mingyu for being a pervert.

Jihoon fell asleep quite easily. Laying mostly on top of Mingyu, listening to his heart beat as Mingyu’s words rang through his mind over and over until he was lulled.

 

Jihoon starts to feel somewhat decent again. Not entirely 100%. He still feels sad, he still sometimes sees the spots and can’t hear after he’s had a rough day. It means he has to take another pill. Those pills also help. The side effects kind of tire him out, but he notices the change.

Jihoon knows he won’t get better any time soon. It’ll take time. Like all things do. Like all healing does. But he’s trying his best to hurry the process. To subside his bad tendencies.

He hasn’t physically harmed himself since the last attempt. It scared him. He didn’t want to visit the hospital again. He’d feel like a failure. That meant everything sharp in the dorm was removed. For Jihoon’s sake. Even though the first time he noticed that, he felt like a freak. He knew the members were just trying to help.

Jihoon wasn’t a broken person. Just damaged. But he was healing himself. That meant surrounding himself with positivity - his friends. Good things. The colour yellow. His therapist.

It meant going through small changes. The pills becoming routine. The mood swings - happiness, sadness, neutrality. The episodes - the dark ones, but also good ones. Where he felt like he was on top of the world. The sessions with Dr. Lee that sometimes went bad or good.

Jihoon was trying hard to get better because he hated being in the dark in the first place.

And Mingyu. Oh, God, Kim Mingyu.

He’s been by Jihoon’s side through thick and thin. He’s the one who helps Jihoon feel normal. Warm and protected. The one who cares about Jihoon differently but the same. A huge idiot. A sap. A loser that Jihoon loves and adores so much.

Mingyu helps. A lot.

But Jihoon knows it’s himself that is bettering himself. Well, also Dr. Lee was to have credit as well. But Mingyu and his friends were super supportive. Encouraging and whatnot.

It made Jihoon sick with love.

Aforementioned, Jihoon’s had his bad days.

Sometimes he wakes up not feeling like himself. That’s usually only how the bad days begin, how they’ve begun in the first place. He pushes everyone including Mingyu away, locks himself in his studio or bedroom as either Mingyu or another member tentatively knock on the door until he opens it.

Sometimes Jihoon just cries. Sometimes he cries in Mingyu’s arms. In Soonyoung’s or Seungcheol’s. Or by himself in the bathroom or his studio.

The good and bad days balance each other out like yin and yang. They shape Jihoon’s behaviour. They build his thoughts.

Seventeen had schedules a month later. Jihoon’s mood has been good. Exceptional. Their music video was a hit. The fans loved it. They especially loved Jihoon’s solo choreography and he was so, so thankful that he sobbed into Mingyu’s arms that night.

Everyone cheered for Jihoon for yet another hit comeback. It felt good. Lifted his spirits.

Jihoon loved what he did. He loved performing. He was so glad to share his passion with 12 of his closest friends who loved it as much as he did, but also with the fans. The fans who cheered their loudest. The fans who made Jihoon feel powerful.

They’re in a hotel in an unfamiliar city. They have a show tomorrow. Jihoon shares the room with Mingyu (of course). Nobody questions anything about their relationship - what they are, where they stand. And Jihoon is grateful because he doesn’t know how to answer.

He loves Mingyu, yes. But neither of them made any advancements and Jihoon was fine with the unspoken relationship they’ve somewhat established between them. 

Jihoon had just taken his pills. They make him feel just a bit loopy for a few hours after intake. Before they made him have weird mood changes. But now he feels silly. Weird. But good. And in control as he walks to the window of the room.

They have a view of the city, unlike Jeonghan and Joshua’s view of the parking lot. It was pretty. All of the buildings filled with people who have their own individual stories.

The world is big. There’s so much out there. So many people. So many feelings. It makes Jihoon feel small and trivial, but then again, everyone was small and trivial. 

“Hoonie..”

Jihoon turns around as Mingyu strides over, placing a hand on the shorter’s shoulder. Mingyu hums as Jihoon looks up at him.

“Be my boyfriend.” Mingyu says. He doesn’t look very nervous, just a bit, and Jihoon understands. Because it feels right. They’re entirely comfortable around each other. This feels right.

“Okay.” Jihoon agrees.

He loves Mingyu. So much. Mingyu smiles, stupid canines on display, and pulls Jihoon into a hug. Jihoon hugs back just as tightly.

Jihoon knows he’s just at the beginning. Of everything. Healing, blossoming, feeling, growing. He’s not always going to be this happy. But he’s also not going to be sad forever. It’ll take a while to get completely used to all of this. But for now, he feels content.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are struggling with depression or self harm, please don’t think you are alone. Talk to someone, it really helps. Talk to me.


End file.
